You never liked crowded places. You felt suffocation crawling through your veins everyday when you had to go to your workplace.
So when you decided to finally get yourself a scheduled place far away from the town, somewhere in the woods, you came u...
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As a 20-year-old photographer, you find solace behind the lens, capturing fleeting moments and eternalizing them in time. In a city filled with crowds, the cacophony often drowns your thoughts, leaving you feeling like a ghost wandering through life. You crave a place where silence reigns and nature holds sway-a sanctuary that can inspire your art without the intrusions of the outside world.
After months of searching, you stumble upon a listing that makes your heart race. An old cabin deep in the woods, priced remarkably low, stands as a testament to a bygone era. You can't resist the allure of its rustic charm, so you take a leap of faith and buy it.
As you drive to the cabin, the trees thicken around you, their branches twisting like ancient fingers reaching for the sky. When you turn onto the gravel road that leads to your new home, a shiver of excitement courses through you.
When you finally arrive, the cabin stands resolute, a faded relic cloaked in vines and shadows. Its wooden exterior is weathered and gray, but it has character-a kind that echoes tales of the past.
The porch creaks underfoot as you step out of your car, and the air is thick with the scent of damp earth and pine. You can already envision the photographs you will capture within these walls.
Inside, the cabin is a time capsule, filled with antique furniture and decorations from the 18th century. An ornate chandelier hangs from the ceiling, its crystals catching the light and casting spectral rainbows on the walls. A grand fireplace, its stones worn smooth by the hands of previous occupants, promises warmth against the chill that lingers in the air.
You wander from room to room, each corner revealing something new-a dusty bookshelf filled with tattered books, a faded portrait of a stern-looking man, and a dining table set for an uninvited guest.
As you begin to unpack, you feel a sense of belonging. This is a sanctuary, a space where you can breathe and create. But as night falls, an unsettling stillness creeps in. You light a fire and sit in the dim glow, the flickering flames casting eerie shadows on the walls.
The silence becomes palpable, pressing in around you like a living thing. It is then that you hear it-the faintest thrum reverberating through the floorboards, like a heartbeat pulsing beneath the cabin. You shake your head, dismissing it as your imagination. Perhaps it is just the wind playing tricks on you.
